


So, this is my... boyfriend.

by duckgirlie



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Community: ae_match, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-28
Updated: 2011-08-28
Packaged: 2017-11-04 09:45:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/392454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duckgirlie/pseuds/duckgirlie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing is, he could just tell the guys he's not interested, but then he'd have to explain, and deal with the <i>begging</i>... It's just <i>easier</i> to point to Eames across the room and say 'that guy's my boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So, this is my... boyfriend.

The first time it happened was pretty much an accident. Arthur had been standing at the corner of the bar, waiting for a drink when a tall guy about four inches taller then him pressed up next to him.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“I’m sure you’re perfectly capable of doing so, but you may not, no.”

“Oh yeah? And why not?”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Because I’m not interested.”

“I don’t know. Sitting here at the end of the bar, wearing those pants… looks to me like you’re interested.”

Arthur paused for a moment. He didn’t want to get into a fight, but he didn’t want to have to let this guy buy him a drink either, and he didn’t think just walking away was going to be any use.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Eames emerging from the restrooms, and subtly gestured him over.

*****

Eames had just left the gents and was about to make his way to the bar when he saw Arthur waving at him. It looked to be halfway between a come-here-I-need-to-give-out wave and a panicked wave, so he walked over. The second he arrived in the corner, Arthur threw his arms around his neck and plastered their lips together.

Surprising as it was, Eames managed to get with the program pretty quickly and wrapped his arms around Arthur. This wasn’t how he’d thought it would start, but maybe Arthur just needed the relaxing power of alcohol before –

Arthur pulled away. “Oh thank god, he’s gone.”

“Sorry?”

“Some complete meathead wouldn’t leave me alone. Had to tell him I had a boyfriend, but he still wouldn’t believe me. Are you okay? Sorry I couldn’t give you any warning.”

“No. It’s… fine.”

“Thanks for that. I’ll buy you a drink.”

*****

After that, it started happening with alarming regularity.

The third time, Eames was already standing next to Arthur. They were talking about something, their foreheads together, and probably already looking like a couple when some tiny twink decided to make a play. Arthur just gave Eames a slight dig in the side and burrowed under his arm when he lifted it slightly. Eames tried his hardest not to lean into the touch.

The fifth time was a woman – a woman who apparently didn’t take ‘I’m gay’ for an answer, because Eames found himself practically picking Arthur up to escape her.

As soon as she was gone, he dropped him back on the ground.

“Shit. I need to stop making you do that.”

“It’s fine.” Eames answered shortly, turning back to the bar.

The eighth time, it was an architect they hadn’t worked with before. Eames walked into the warehouse to find Arthur plastered between the guy and the wall. He threw Eames a look over the guy’s shoulder, and it had happened enough by then that Eames figured it out pretty fast.

He took a step forward and placed a hand heavily on the architect’s shoulder. “Excuse me?”

He let Arthur go, and Eames slid his arm over his shoulder, pressing them just close enough together to make it clear what was implied.

“Oh. Sorry. I mean, I’d _heard_ , but I didn’t really… Sorry.”

The second he’s out of sight, Eames yanked his arm back.

Arthur smiled gratefully. “Sorry.”

“You know, most guys take ‘no’ for an answer.”

“Yeah, but most of them want an explanation, or something. Or they start begging. This is easier.”

Eames stalked out of the room, yelling “fine” behind him.

*****

“So.” Ariadne sat down next to Arthur. “How long have you and Eames been like… a thing?”

“What? We’re not.”

She looked a bit confused. “But Henry – “

“Was pressing his luck at little further then I wanted, so I just told him something to get rid of him.”

“But then when we were out last week – “

“Same thing.”

“So, Eames just… pretends... to be your boyfriend, so you don’t have to tell people you’re not interested.”

“Pretty much, yes. Why?”

“Oh, nothing. I just forget sometimes, how good an actor Eames is. He makes it look very convincing.”

“Well, yeah. There’d be no point him doing it if it was going to be obvious to everyone that we’re not really together.”

“And Eames doesn’t mind?”

“Of course not.” Arthur paused. “He’s never said anything, anyway.”

*****

  
The fourteenth time, Eames wasn’t even at the bar. He got a text message from Arthur at about 2am, just saying _help_ and an address, and he was out the door with his gun in his waisband before he’d even finished reading.

When he got to the address and realised that Arthur _wasn’t_ in genuine danger, and instead just trying to dissuade another suitor, Eames didn’t even have time to register that the guy was almost bigger than him, and that Arthur actually looked a little worried, he just stalked over, picked the guy up, threw him on the ground, and then stormed out.

Arthur ran out after him. “Sorry! I thought you were in the area, I didn’t mean – “

Eames cut him off. “In future, can you please put a little more information into your texts? Just so I know in advance whether this is a Arthur’s-in-mortal-danger help or a Arthur-can’t-be-bothered-saying-no text?”

Arthur shoved his hands into his pockets and looked down at the ground. “Right. Sorry.”

“Are we done tonight? Or are you going to be going out somewhere else and calling me to get all territorial on you again?”

“Yeah, I’m just going to head home. Sorry again. I’ll be careful next time.”

Eames stared at him for a moment. “Fine.”

*****

He wasn’t.

It was less than a week later when they were all at another bar, drinking off a stressful but productive day, and Eames was keeping a careful eye on the whole team in case they needed to bail. Ariadne and the chemist were having a bouncy conversation about late-90s boy bands, and Arthur…

Arthur was onto his fourth whiskey, and in the middle of a conversation with some guy when Eames noticed him making the now-familiar signal.

 _Right_. He thought. _That was seriously enough_

When he stepped up, Arthur grabbed his hand and pulled him closer. His voice was _just_ starting to slur, which meant he’d probably had more to drink then Eames had noticed.

“See? I told you. Boyfriend. Eames. My boyfriend, Eames. See?”

The guy looked at him. “You’re his boyfriend?”

Eames smiled. “Actually, no. I’m not.”

The guy raised an eyebrow at Arthur, who glared at Eames.

“He’s _joking_. He thinks he’s funny. Just tell him you’re my boyfriend.”

“Sorry about this.” Eames said to the guy. “He does this, it’s his thing. He can’t be bothered telling people to get lost, so he just tells them I’m his boyfriend.”

“ _Eames_.”

“So I’d probably stop wasting your time, yeah?”

He turned and walked out of the bar, leaving the rest of the team to sort themselves out. He was nearly at a cab when someone grabbed his arm.

“Eames, what the fuck?”

He did his best to smile pleasantly. “I’m not doing that any more.”

“But… what am I supposed to do instead?”

“Well, I don’t know, Arthur. You could just tell them to get lost, that you’re not interested. Or find someone else to fake with, I don’t really care.”

“But you’re so good at it! You even fooled Ariadne, and you weren’t even _trying_.”

“Arthur.” Eames rested his hands on Arthur’s shoulders and looked into his eyes. “I want you to think over that sentence a couple of times, okay?”

Arthur just looked at him for a second. Eames sighed.

“Go home and sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

*****

The next morning, Eames dragged himself into the warehouse. Based on how everyone had looked when he’d left the night before, he was expecting to be the only one in that early.

Instead, Arthur was sitting carefully in front of Eames’ desk.

“So, it’s come to my attention – or been _brought_ to my attention – that I’ve kind of been an asshole lately.”

Eames sat down. “If you’re expecting me to disagree, then you’ll be waiting there a while.”

“No, I’m not. But I just… I wanted to say that maybe there’s a _reason_ I haven’t been interested in any of the guys who’ve –“

“Arthur, if you’re going to try and tell me that you’ve been in love with me this whole time, I’m going to hit you.”

“I’m not!” Arthur jumped in. “I promise. But I just wanted to say, that maybe… Maybe I wouldn’t be so eager to dissuade certain people.”

Eames looked at him carefully across the desk. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Arthur looked back at him, before getting up. “Okay, I’ll just… go.”

When he walked by Eames’s desk, he grabbed his arm and pulled him into his lap, pressing their lips together until Arthur gasped.

“Sorry.” He said, pushing him back to his feet. “I just… had to do that.”

“It’s not a problem. I’ll… call you?”

“Okay.”

 


End file.
